The Crash

Chapter 1

I sit up slowly and try to look around, tunnel vision clouding my sight. I can hear ringing in my ears and some kind of static. An eerie fog envelopes me as I struggle to breathe. It feels like I've been hit in the chest with a baseball bat.

I gasp as I take one big breath, my lungs rebelling against me. Blood drips down my nose as I clutch my head to try to ease the pounding.

What the hell happened? I think to myself. I must have hit a curb or something. My head pounds, making me sick. I don't think I have ever felt this terrible in my whole life.

Faintly, I can see the flashing of blue and red lights in the rearview mirror. Is that a police car? Then I see it, a flashlight in my side view mirror, accompanied by a hazy man in an officer's uniform. I roll down my window.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" He asks with genuine concern in his hoarse voice.

"Yes, I think so." I tell him. Why is he so concerned? It's not like I got in a serious accident or anything.

"Do you need medical attention?"

"No, seriously." I say. "I'm completely fine, just really confused.

A pit in my stomach forms as I realize I'm going to be going to jail.

I'm a bartender, and it was someone's birthday today, so we all had a couple of drinks. I wasn't going to at first, but everyone kept pressuring me, so I finally gave in.

Now that I think about it, I don't even remember driving. I must be more of a lightweight than I thought. I'm so dumb. Why did I have to listen to them?

I feel nauseous. I'm going to get a DUI. My mom is going to be so pissed. Gran is going to be so disappointed. Hopefully, this all blows over quickly.

I step out of the vehicle and turn around, the cold metal of the handcuffs digging into my wrists as they click. He walks me to the police car, and I sit down on the seat, hot from the engine.  It's eerily quiet from the back seat. There are no sounds aside from the occasional update over the radio, and I can't see anything but complete darkness outside the window.

The whole ride drags. I can't stop thinking about what I'm going to tell Mom and Gran. They're going to be so upset with me. And I don't even want to think about my boss. I'm probably going to lose my job.

I've been helping my mom with rent and utility bills since Gran moved in. Mom has dropped some of her hours so she could take care of her, so I've had to step up. What is this going to mean for them?

* * *

We get to the station, and I have one phone call. I punch my mom's number into the cold metal buttons, listening to the sound of dialing before hearing her voice.

"Mom, I'm going to jail. I was drinking and driving, and I know I'm getting charged with a DUI. I promise I will be home soon." I say confidently.

"Are you okay, honey?" She asks, concern clouding her voice.

"Yes, Mom. I'm okay. How is Gran doing?"

I'm so worried about her. The thought of causing so much pain makes me sick to my stomach. The last thing I wanted to do was get taken away from her when she needs me the most.

"She's doing okay. Please don't worry about her. I have everything covered."

Mom really isn't as convincing as she thinks she is. I know everyone is making plans for when Gran passes. She's getting worse every day that goes by.

"I have to get off now. Everything will be fine here."

I have no idea if everything is going to be fine, but the last thing I need is my mom worrying about me. She has enough going on.